


When You Turn It Around

by Syntax



Series: Everything Stays [8]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Communication Failure, Dancing, Gen, Male Gimurei | Grima, Mentioned Robin - Freeform, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 17:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17687981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntax/pseuds/Syntax
Summary: Grima advises one of his fellow dragons while trying to read.





	When You Turn It Around

**Author's Note:**

> this was larger than i would've liked, but my friend suggested a really great idea for this part and i just couldn't cut it short.
> 
> also apparently grima in feh is missing a fair chunk of his memories so. whoops.

He was reading.

He could read if he wanted to. The mortals came up with such interesting little ideas sometimes, and indulging himself in a war book for a few hours was a half-decent substitute for when Grima was unable to indulge himself in an enemy battalion. An empty room to relax in and a warm window to bask in served to make his reading all the better.

There was one major problem though. The mortals had a bad habit of forgetting that there was more than one person in the castle wearing his vessel's face. For some reason they seemed to forget more frequently on days he felt like reading.

"Oh, Robin! There you are!" chimed a voice from the doorway.

Like today, for instance.

The fell dragon glared over the pages of his book, finding a bright, then puzzled, then strained smile pointed back at him, settled on the face of a woman who really should've known better by now.

"Robin?" Ninian asked.

"Grima," he responded.

A quiet _'darnit'_ reached his ears as the fell dragon sighed and lowered his book.

"For someone who supposedly spent hundreds of years in service to the gods, you're not very good at recognizing them. What do you want?"

"Okay, in my defense," Ninian said, "You _are_  holding a book on tactics."

Grima only scoffed, motioning with a hand for the dancer to keep going. She fidgeted for a moment, chewing on her lip and fiddling with her hair.

"I don't suppose you know where Olivia or any of the other dancers are?" she asked eventually.

"I do not."

"...I don't suppose you know anything about ceremonial dance?"

The fell dragon thought back. He'd been dead for most of the time that the people of Plegia had worshiped him, but that didn't mean he was wholly unfamiliar with the ways mortals celebrate their gods—before denouncing them at the first sign of trouble, of course.

"Depends on the ceremony," he settled on.

Ninian sighed. "Well, I guess that'll have to be good enough for now," she said, trying to clear space in the room. "I just need someone to help me work out the kinks."

Grima jolted up in his seat, fully ready to argue that he hadn't agreed to anything yet—then slumped back down against the wall in resignation.

The female manakete started up her dance as the fell dragon looked on with a long-suffering expression. Most of the moves were strange to him, but there were a few he recognized from his own—

" _Stop._ "

Ninian froze, confused. "Stop?"

"The movement you just did, it's..." Grima said, struggling to find the word, "... wrong."

"Wrong how?"

"I don't know the _words_ , mortal, I just know it's wrong!"

"Well, can you give me any _hints_ about what's wrong?"

"Look just do it again, but different this time!"

"Different _how?!_ "

_"I don't know, just do it!"_

...

It took the rest of the afternoon for them to realize he'd meant she needed to bring her leg up higher before spinning.


End file.
